When strangers think they know

Last Sunday our little family of four was out for breakfast with friends. While we were waiting for our food to arrive, I was walking along the pavement of the cafe trying to get Florence back to sleep in the sling. It was a warm summer Joburg morning and her bare little foot was peeping out of the sling. As I was walking one of the cafe customers was leaving and came up to me and said "I think her foot is cold, you should cover it."

What I said:

"She is fine" and moved away from her (the audacity!)

What I wanted to say:

I created this baby. I carried her inside of me for 9 months and knew her penchant for kicking before she was born. I've nursed this child solely on breast milk for four months. I know that she shuffles to get comfortable in order to get to sleep. I know that she talks more just before she gets tired. I know when she is about to cry a few seconds before it happens as i know recognise the imperceptible changes in her face. I know she has a warm little body which easily gets over heated when in the sling and that she likes to have her toes wiggling in the fresh air. So I know for certain that her feet are not cold and that I do not need to cover them. If however you were talking about her twin sister just over there, I may agree. I know that Anna secretly loves a cuddle against your chest. I know the limit to which she can remain composed before her little bottom lip protrudes and she begins to cry. I know that she loves falling asleep on my breast after the four I clock feed. I know that arching her back is comfortable for her and that she will reach for her sister when they are placed near each other. I know the shape of her toothless, gummy smile with my eyes closed. And I also know that she has a slightly lower body temperature and her little toes and hands are often a little clammy and cold. So if you were telling me to cover Anna's feet as they may be cold, I would agree. But of course, by then her feet would already be covered.